Conversation with my children today:

Me: Wow. I see the sun. I’m so ready for some blooms. Some warmth. Some spring.

My Children: Mom… you do realize it’s January 12th.

Apparently they are tuned into the reality that we are only three weeks into winter. Nine weeks to go.

I grew up 200 miles south of Atlanta, in Georgia’s coastal plain. We wore short sleeves at Christmas. We didn’t own coats. And any weather similar to a real winter was definitely over by Valentine’s Day, when the tulips bloomed.

Twenty-years later, I still haven’t adjusted.

But I can compensate.

Due to a recent construction boom, little bright cheery boxes, kind of like flowers, are popping up all over my neighborhood.

This is one of my favorites.  In person, it’s really more blush than peach, and blush is a hot color right now.

I think the yellow is really my favorite, though.  A promise of sunnier times to come:

Having evolved into a full-fledged porta-potty-photo collector (much to the delight of my children, who aren’t embarrassed at all), I decided to showcase my findings all together:

So here’s wishing you a little premature spring cheer.  Remember that  beauty is really in the eye of whoever is most desperate.